Girl, Serpent, Thorn(31)

Azad watched her, rapt. “And did he tell you?”

Soraya told him what the yatu had told her about the feather and the fire, how together they gave the shah the simorgh’s protection. “Do you understand now? I would have to betray my family.”

She waited to see some sign of resignation on his face, but instead he was shaking his head, a stubborn glint in his eye. “Soraya, no. You can’t stop now. Maybe the yatu was lying. Maybe if we go to the fire temple, we’ll find some way to borrow the feather without endangering anyone.”

“No,” she said at once. She pulled away from him and looked at the corpse, reminding herself how easy it was for her to lose her self-control. “I don’t trust myself to do that.”

“I won’t give up,” Azad said. “Together, we’ll find a way.”

He reached for her again, but she backed away, looking at him in disbelief. “I don’t understand you. I’m a murderer, Azad. You saw me kill someone. Why would you even want to help me anymore?”

Azad shook his head slowly as he came toward her. “You saved me, Soraya,” he said. “How is what you did any different from what soldiers do on the battlefield? No one would blame you for killing a yatu. You said yourself he was already wanted for treason.”

His words sounded reasonable enough, but Soraya knew that what was true for anyone else could never be true for her. If her family found out she had killed, they would see her differently—not as a sleeping serpent, its poison dormant, but as one that was awake and poised to strike. Soraya thought of the Shahmar with a shiver.

“It’s different,” she said.

“How?”

“Because I touched him to see what would happen!” she cried out, her arms wrapping around her waist. “I wanted to see for myself what I was capable of. It wasn’t the duty of a warrior. It was…” She shook her head, a bitter taste in her mouth. “It was a show of power.”

She watched for Azad’s reaction, waiting for his disgust for her to show on his face. She saw the movement of his throat as he swallowed, saw his fingers curl slightly at his side—but otherwise he was unreadable.

Her eyes kept flitting between Azad and the lifeless figure of the corpse, each painful in different ways, and so she turned her back on them both, arms tightening around her waist, her back hunching over. But it was too late to make herself small. The damage had already been done.

Gentle hands settled on her shoulders, and as if they had released her from some enchantment, Soraya’s shoulders went slack, and her eyes fluttered closed. From behind her, Azad spoke, his voice so low and quiet that it might have been coming from her own mind. “Listen to me, Soraya,” the voice said, wrapping around her. “Whatever your reasons, and no matter what anyone else might say, I’m glad you did it. I think you’re … extraordinary.”

The last word was an exhale, his breath warm on the curve of her neck. She wanted nothing more than to lean back against him, to let him hold her so close that she would forget everything outside the circle of his arms. She wanted his words to seep into her skin until she believed them. The longing was deeper than she’d ever felt before, a craving for something more than human touch. There was a dull ache in her heart as she opened her eyes.

“We’ll leave the body here for the vultures,” Azad said. He removed his hands from her shoulders, going to retrieve her other glove.

“No,” Soraya said with surprising firmness. “We have to put it on the platform.” Dead flesh belonged to the Destroyer, and would pollute the Creator’s soil until there was nothing left but bone. She had already broken too many rules tonight; it seemed vitally important to her to keep this one.

Azad looked like he wanted to argue, but he sighed and said, “Fine.” He threw the corpse over his shoulder and carried it to the platform, hoisting it up onto the rock. Soraya tried not to focus on the yatu’s feet dangling over the edge.

“Now let’s leave this place and put it out of our minds,” Azad said. He held Soraya’s glove out to her. “But our story isn’t over yet, Soraya. I promise you that.”

She was too exhausted to contradict him—especially when she wanted him to be right. “Take me home,” she said softly as she took back her glove. She slipped it on, put her gloved hand in his, and let him lead her out of the dakhmeh, back into the world of the living.





11


Soraya was barely aware of her surroundings as she followed Azad back through the empty city streets to the palace gates. Once again, both the guard at the city walls and the guards at the palace gates let them pass despite the late hour once they saw Azad’s uniform, and even through the haze of her guilt, Soraya couldn’t help thinking how easy it was for Azad to make his way through the world. With his new status and his air of confidence, he could go anywhere he wanted, while Soraya couldn’t even leave the palace without ending up with blood on her hands.

The yatu’s face still flashed through her mind, his eyes somehow both blank and accusing at the same time, the poison in his veins spreading up the strained muscles of his neck.

Something touched her shoulder, and she flinched before realizing it was only Azad, his hand dropping away at her reaction. He said something—asked her how she was, if she wanted him to stay with her—and she shook her head, hardly able to understand him over the roar of guilt in her head.